


A morbid game

by Anonymous



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Aphrodisiacs, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Crying, Double Penetration, Drugs, Emetophilia, Face-Fucking, Gang Rape, Gangbang, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-consensual Exhibitionism, Recovery, Rough Sex, Spitroasting, Torture, zenigata is NOT the one doing the nonconing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-07 08:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17362922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The Lupin Game takes a horrible, horrible turn.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how chill the Lupin fandom is about these things lmao but here goes: while there'll be a second chapter about Lupin recovering and being taken care of, the noncon and torture is VERY GRAPHIC in this, just as described by the tags. If you're not into it, then just click out. I'm not holding a gun at your head and forcing you to read this, so don't come at me with your complaints.
> 
> For those for are into it, hi! :) Happy that my first Lupin fic is very disgusting noncon haha

Lupin is welcomed into consciousness by a pounding headache so strong it’s as if someone was hitting his skull repeatedly with a hammer in hopes to break through and kill him for good. A groan and a whine escape him, and he finds himself reluctant to open his eyes. He can already tell his surroundings are way too bright without even having to open his eyes, and knows that even a small glance will cause his migraine to worsen significantly.

He tries to move and bring a hand to his face, only to notice two things: not only does his body hurts like all hell, but his arms seem to be shackled to a wall. Huh. He was starting to wonder what could’ve caused such a horrible headache, but he guesses he now has his answer.

He’s been knocked out and kidnapped. Considering the significant pain pulsing through his body, he can only imagine that he put up quite a fight before being taken away. Either that, or his kidnapped have such a dislike for him that they decided to beat him up even when Lupin wasn’t awake to suffer the blows. 

Cracking an eye open causes Lupin to groan as the bright light attacks him. Just as he’d predicted, his headache just gets worse and worse, and it takes him way too long for his eyes to get accustomed to the brightness. He can’t even cover his eyes with his hand, although he can at least press his face against his bound up arm, so he supposes he should be grateful.

When he finally feels like he can look around himself without his head exploding, Lupin pulls himself in an upright position. His back and shoulders are incredibly sore and upset from the uncomfortable position he’d been forced in - halfway between sitting and laying down against a wall on which his hands had been held up and shackled - and Lupin whines a bit. “Could’ve at least put me in a bed or something…” he mutters to himself, quickly realizing that he’s alone in this room.

He rubs his eyes the best he can against his arm, before blinking a few times and taking the room in. The bright light that’s been bothering him ever since he woke up comes from quite professional looking equipment - one that would be used for a photoshoot or for professional video recording. They’re being pointed to him at all angles, making sure no parts of him are being obscured.

To that, is added a bunch of cameras who, again, are positioned at different angles, as well as a large white sheet that covers the floor on which Lupin is sitting. The wall on which he’s shackled is also completely white, save for a few old stains that have been scrubbed as clean as possible. Those tell Lupin that he’s definitely not the first person that’s been in this position, and he may not even be the last that will be.

All in all, the environment looks clean, sterile, and professional. Considering the little game that’s been going on on the internet, Lupin can already guess why he’s there, and what these cameras are for, and he makes sure to offer a smile to every single one of them. He even waves, although it’s a little awkward considering the shackles that keep his wrists flush to the wall. 

While there’s definitely something worrying about his situation, it doesn’t look like anything he can’t get out of. The only reason why he hasn’t broken out of his shackles yet is because of how much his body hurts, pushing him to want to rest a little more before he moves again. That, and the fact that he’s incredibly curious about who put him in this predicament, and what exactly they want to do with him. Do they want to hurt him? Do they want sex? Are they simply going to keep him here and ask for ransom? Or do they plan on killing him clean and simple in front of everyone?

Oh, the possibilities are endless, and Lupin almost wants to laugh about how morbid they all are. Were people outside of gangs always this fucked up, Lupin wonders? The time where he would mostly be safe unless he fucked with the wrong people seem long gone, and he’s really starting to miss it - although this whole situation brings an entirely new kind of thrill and adrenaline that isn’t completely unwelcome.

He’s about to start speaking to the audience he knows he has, but is cut short when the door to the room opens to reveal a quite unthreatening looking fellow. Lupin knows however that appearances can be very deceiving, and he finds himself squinting at the guy as he tries to compare his face to the very, very long list of people Lupin has wronged in case it’s someone he might recognize. Nothing about him rings a bell, however, so if he’s someone Lupin fucked over, he definitely wasn’t important enough to leave a mark on him.

He doesn’t seem to be some guy wearing a mask either, although Lupin knows masks can get eerily realistic. After all, it’s his specialty. 

“I see you’re finally awake, Lupin the third,” the man says in a voice way too gentle for the situation. “I hadn’t expected you to be out for so long. Perhaps my men handled you a little too roughly, and for that I apologize.”

Lupin’s eyebrows twitch. Oh, for how long as he been out? Looking around himself doesn’t really give him any clues, considering the clear absence of clocks, as well as the way the room’s windows have been covered with heavy light-blocking black sheets. Damn it.

Do his friends knows he’s been taken away? If he indeed got knocked out in a fight, no doubt that Jigen and Goemon were around, right? Ami might’ve been there too. Did they lose track of his kidnappers, or did they get taken, too? Lupin bites the inside of his cheek. This is the Lupin game, not the Jigen, Goemon and Ami game. He doubts these assholes will really care about his associates, and yet he can’t help but feel his heart twist just a bit at the idea of them being hurt without him knowing or being able to do a thing.

“I definitely would’ve appreciated it if you’d handled the merchandise with a bit more care,” Lupin responds to the man’s apology, hoping to get bit more information through the conversation. He tilts his head to the side, studying his face with a hum. “Have we met before?”

“I’m afraid we haven’t, no,” the man replies with a smile. “Although I’ve been observing you for a while - but that goes for a lot of people these days, doesn’t it? You’ve become quite the phenomenon, Lupin, and as a fellow thief I’m sure you can understand some people’s desire to steal you away to add you to their collection.”

Lupin’s smile widens at that, and he can’t help but laugh a little. Oh, that’s so god damn creepy, he thinks to himself. “Well, I’m flattered to be considered to be some treasure for people to steal, although I’m afraid to say that you’d make quite the terrible thief. Could you imagine if I stole some vase or something and I handled it as roughly as you did? Poor thing would be nothing but worthless shattered by now!” he tells him, before giving him a curious look. “Or perhaps you specifically stole me so that I could give you some lessons?”

The man actually finds himself laughing at that. So at least he has a sense of humor, Lupins thinks to himself. That’s good. 

“The great thing about human beings, is that it’s pretty challenging to break them. It’s true that I would never be able to afford such rough handling of more standards valuables,” he replies, before his smirk grows darker, and Lupin instinctively tenses up. “Although your case is also a little special, Lupin the third. You see, not only are you valuable to steal, but it also seems you are incredibly valuable to break,” he declares, grabbing a screen that had been propped up on a table next to one of the many cameras and turning it to face Lupin. 

The screen is wide enough that Lupin can clearly see what it shows despite the distance. It’s the live feed for the Lupin Game, broadcasting the footage from the many cameras pointed at him. A stream of comments are endlessly popping up the screen, almost too fast for Lupin to read most of them - although what he catches is enough to tell him what’s coming.

“Oh, oh, is he reading our comments?? Good morning sunshine! Looking beautiful with those shackles on ;)”

“Come on, just get on with it already. I wanna see him scream.”

“Do you think he’ll cry? lolol”

“Rip his clothes off him already!! Wanna see the merchandise lol!!”

“I’ll pay you to make him moan my name!!”

Lupin grimaces a little, feeling a shudder course through his body. The internet truly brings out the worst in people, huh. It’s almost to wonder if they’re actually aware he’s a real person. 

“I’m sure that it’s no mystery to you that a lot of the audience of the Lupin Game are very eager to see how you’ll die and when. I myself have placed quite a few bets before taking matters into my own hands,” the man speaks again, his last sentence accompanied with a laugh. “But I found quite a wide amount of people that sought something… more. You see, as surprising as it sounds, not everyone on the internet is a blood thirsty psycopath. No, some of us seek to inflict… quite a different kind of pain.”

The man walks around the room as he speaks, grabbing a chair and positioning it behind the cameras. He sits down, then, crossing a leg over the other, and clapping his hands twice. 

Lupin’s head snaps to the sad as, suddenly, the door slams open to reveal group of four quite large men. Contrary to the one that’s obviously orchestrated all of this, they definitely look very threatening, and Lupin whistles in admiration. 

“Woaaaah, you’ve gone through so much trouble for me~! Look at how big you all look! I don’t know if I should feel flattered, or if I should feel small compared to all of you,” Lupin laughs, absolutely unfazed despite the horrible situation he’s in. 

There’s no reason to panic. He’s got everything under control.

The man in the chair doesn’t seem too bothered by Lupin’s behavior. Surely, after observing him for so long, he knew that Lupin wouldn’t be intimidated so easily. Instead of responding with anger, or disappointment, he simply lights a cigarette and leans back, looking Lupin up and down. 

“Quite a few people are excited to wipe that smile off your face, you know,” the man informs Lupin with a long, slow exhale that allows a cloud of smoke to escape his mouth. Oh, how Lupin wishes he could get a cig too right now. “And a few of them have paid quite a large sum to see me do just that. Just look at what’s everyone saying. They’re getting a little impatient,” the man chuckles, 

“Y’know, can’t really blame all these people for wanting to have fun with me,” Lupin replies. “I’m quite the handsome guy after all. And honestly? I’m getting a little impatient too,” Lupin admits, raising an eyebrow. A small glance at the screen tells him that indeed, his audience is very eager. He tries to keep the degrading comments from making his stomach turn, and ends up directing his gaze towards what will probably be his friends for the evening. “Do you usually waste this much time chatting with your victims? Is it part of the torture? To get me to ask you to just get on with it already?” he asks in a mocking voice. 

The man huffs. “Oh, always so insolent. But, ah, well, I suppose I’ll just give you what you want. Boys, please feel free to go at him.”

“With pleasure, boss,” one of the large men says. His voice is deep, and sounds more like a growl than anything. He cracks his neck, and does the same to his knuckles, before he makes his way towards Lupin and kneels in front of him.

“Hiii~!” Lupin salutes him with the largest, brightest smile he can manage. “What’s your name sweetie? I’ll be looking forward to scream it all night!” he giggles. 

The big guy doesn’t seem too keen on playing along, though, instead glancing back at his boss before he grabs Lupin’s hair and yanks it to tilt his head backwards. “The name you’ll scream doesn’t matter,” he mutters. “What matters is that you will scream,” he adds, before he smashes his lips against Lupin’s own in a deliciously aggressive kiss. 

It reminds Lupin of times he’d seduced some dudes while disguised as a pretty girl in order to get into their secret safes or steal their fingerprints. Some of them would get very aggressive very quickly, and although Lupin wants to joke about preferring tender lovers over this, he does appreciate the intensity of an angry and heated makeout session. 

He kisses back willingly, and leans against the large hands that force themselves under his shirt. His lips only tug downwards a little bit when the other forces his shirt open, ruining all his buttons and even tearing the fabric with his roughness. Yet another shirt he’ll have to throw away and replace, he laments. 

The man is definitely confused by Lupin’s willingness. He goes out of his way to bite at Lupin’s lips and tongue as well as dig his gross, uneven nails into Lupin’s skin - but all it does is make lupin squeak a little and let out amused sounds. Frustration rises in the guy, Lupin can feel it, and when he pulls away to look at Lupin angrily, Lupin simply sticks his tongue out before giggling some more and squirming against the other’s touch.

“It tickles, it tickles~!” Lupin laughs when the man tries to grope him some more. He’s actually being honest, as he is quite ticklish - although he may or may not be exaggerating his reactions just a bit. 

This pushes the guy who’d been kissing Lupin to furrow his brows and look back at his boss, motioning at Lupin with a silent and yet very obvious “What the fuck is this guy?” that causes Lupin to grin so wide it hurts. 

Oh, it’s almost cute how they thought they’d have it easy with him. 

The boss simply shrugs. “Lupin the third is an interesting specimen indeed. But here, why don’t you do what our audience is asking for? Sounds like they might be on the right tracks,” he advises, nodding at the large screen by Lupin’s side. 

The man looks over at the screen, and so does Lupin. Lupin barely has the time to see a message ordering to punch him before he feels the blow that causes his head to hit the wall pretty harshly, bringing his headache back full force. 

It hurts like shit, leaving Lupin’s ears ringing awfully and causing the entire left side of his face to ache. Shifting his jaw, he can even feel a slight resistance as well as a certain clicking of his bones that lets him knows that if the punch had just been a bit stronger, he might’ve found himself with a broken jaw. 

Despite his obvious pain, however, Lupin just keeps grinning. He turns his head back to his attacker, raising an eyebrow. “Aw, c’mon, can’t you punch any harder than that? You’re gonna disappoint our little audience~! You wouldn’t want them to feel like they got scammed out of their money, would you?”

Lupin realizes fully that perhaps taunting these people is a bad idea. He could simply play along until he finds the best time to escape, but… he simply can’t help it. It’s more fun this way, and who would Lupin be if he didn’t grab at every opportunity to have fun, no matter the danger?

Not only that, but the audience is kind of pushing him to be the worst he can be, both out of spite and simply because he likes to put on a show. Surely some watchers must be entertained by his playful resilience. It might even bring some people over to his side - although he doubts it would make that much of a difference considering this damn game’s scale. 

The remarks causes the man to scowl, before he punches Lupin once again. Then come the kicks - strong, painful kicks that cause Lupin to bend over and wheeze. Yet, despite it all, he keeps a smile on his face. No doubt it must look strained, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that it’s there, and that it stays. 

“Just get on with it and fuck him, surely he can’t laugh and smile like that with a dick in his ass,” a commenter annoyedly says, and when a few more backs them up, the boss sighs and orders his man to do just that. 

Now’s his chance. 

It all goes very, very fast. It starts when the man grabs at Lupin’s pants and shoves them down, only for Lupin to suddenly kick the guy in the face. He stumbles backwards, right on his ass, and Lupin’s out of his handcuffs before his friends have the time to make a single step towards him. 

It’s then that Lupin attempts to bolt out, ignoring the pounding in his head and how much his body protests. However, he doesn’t get very far before the first guy - the one he kicked - grabs at his ankle and causes him to faceplant onto the floor with a yell. 

“Ow ow ow, hey!” Lupin whines, trying to kick and kick at the guy who crawls on top of him to keep him down. 

Lupin’s determined to escape, though, and he fights back as valiantly as he can. Eventually, however, with four guys on top of him, no amount of kicking and punching can save him. He even tries to bite at some guy’s hand, but it only results in him punching Lupin right across the face and shoving his head against the ground with such force that Lupin’s vision grows blurry for a hot second. 

Fuck. 

Lupin grits his teeth. This is bad. No matter how much he struggles, squirms, and kicks, he’s not getting out of this one. In a last bit of desperation, he squeezes his eyes shut and screams out directions to his friends that might help them find the coordinates to his location, knowing that at least one of them must be watching the live feed. He also makes sure to scream “And don’t let Ami watch what’s coming up!” before a large boot is shoved at his face, grinding against the ground. 

He definitely feels something in his face crack, the resulting pain bringing a muffled groan from him as blood comes to drip down his face from his poor broken nose. If his hands weren’t held firmly against the ground, he’d be trying to get the shoe off, but as it is, he’s completely helpless. Still, he doesn’t give up, and even manages to wiggle his way out of a bunch of these men’s grasp - only to freeze when a needle is suddenly jabbed right into his neck. 

Oh no. 

Lupin holds his breath for the second it takes for the syringe’s content to be emptied into his bloodstream. His heart’s rapid beating is the only thing he hears, as his mind races through an ocean of possibilities. What did they inject him with? A drug? Poison? Will it kill him? Incapacitate him? Is it an aphrodisiac?

Lupin doesn’t know. He doesn’t feel himself warm up at all, so perhaps it isn’t an aphrodisiac. His mind seems to be working well for the time being, but it doesn’t rule out the possibility of poisoning. However, he definitely feels his strength diminishing. It’s like his hold on his own body slowly leaves him, making his limbs almost feel alien and heavy. 

He doesn’t start struggling again, because he can’t. Knowing this, the men that had been holding him down slowly let go, although they all seem to be on their guard in case Lupin was faking.

He wishes he was.

“Well, now that’s cheating,” Lupin sighs, before frowning when his words come out very slurred. He bites the inside of his cheek, as harsh as he can, as if the pain could somehow help snap out of the drug’s effects, but finds that even that is starting to feel difficult. 

Seems like getting out of here before things get too serious is out of the question, unless his friends are very quick to the rescue. 

“I had expected you to be a feisty one,” the men’s boss tells him with a smile, before taking another long drag of his cigarette. “Although I’d have hoped for you to remain docile enough that I wouldn’t have to use this. No need to worry, however: the drug you’ve been given is non lethal. It would be a shame to lose you too soon, after all.”

“Oh, so caring,” Lupin mocks with a mumble, his smile coming back, although weaker. 

He’s tied up again, but not to the wall this time. Instead, they decide to keep his hands cuffed behind his back, though not before properly removing his shirt and admiring his naked torso. One of the men makes some comment about how slender he is, and Lupin can read from the screen to his side that the viewers are marveling about that, too. Someone even comments about wishing they could break Lupin like a twig, even though Lupin’s sure the commenter must have the strength of a fly. Pathetic. 

Things get serious, then. The men stop messing around, and hands are quick to come explore the entirety of Lupin’s body. They scratch and grope at him, fingers grazing over a nipple before pinching it harshly. Lupin’s breath catches in his throat, and he does his best to keep down any and all sounds that try to force themselves out of him. For once he doesn’t want to be noisy. Not in this situation. 

While playing along earlier was fun, it’s not so much when he can’t make amused remarks - and he definitely can’t now with how much his mouth feels like cotton. It’s already getting hard to keep it closed, so to articulate words now… there’s no way. 

Still, he keeps smiling. Even as forces himself to read over the creepy comments that their audience is leaving in case someone he knows could be leaving clues amongst them, even as lips come to suck at his skin and bite at him harshly, he smiles. He refuses to let them wipe it away like they’d said they wanted. He refuses to let himself be weakened by them. He refuses to let them win. 

More importantly, however: he refuses to let any of his friends potentially watching see him lose. 

“Having fun, Lupin?” one of the men asks, pressing his lips against his ear before shoving his tongue in, causing Lupin to shudder and his to lips instinctively pull downwards before he forces them into a smile again. “Wonder how much you’re gonna be smiling after this.”

A lot, Lupin wishes he could say. He’ll be smiling and laughing through all of it and well after. This is nothing he can’t handle. 

He thinks that even as the man bites at his lobe, even as another jokes about wanting to cover him in marks, and even as a third fully gets rid of Lupin’s pants and underwear only to force his legs wide open for the audience of millions to see. 

“And here you have Lupin the third, exposed to the world!” one of them laughs, while another grabs Lupin by the jaw and forces him to face one of the cameras. 

Lupin tries his best not to care, despite how frustrated and angry he is that he has to endure this, and that he can’t even more or struggle or at least defend himself through words. Despite that, he keeps smiling, and even finds the strength to stick his tongue out and wink at the camera. If he could move at all, he might even try to do a peace sign. 

None of the men are pleased. 

“Perhaps you could shove your dick in his mouth,” one of them jokes to the one gripping Lupin’s jaw. “Might keep him from smiling.”

The other grins darkly at that. “Good idea. Let’s spit roast him,” he says, easily flipping Lupin over so that he lays on his stomach. 

Great. That’s just fantastic, Lupin thinks as he reads the excited comments that flood the screen. They make sure to ask them to fuck his face and make him choke, and, knowing that the men will be more than happy to do that, Lupin takes a deep breath and braces himself for the worst. 

The man opens his pants in order to pull out his dick - a pretty large one, Lupin wishes he could congratulate him on that - right in front of his face. Knowing that Lupin’s a little too drugged to do much by himself, the man strokes himself to full hardness, before pressing his member against Lupin’s lips. 

Lupin can’t even fight back when he forces his dick inside his mouth. His lips are way too easily pried open, his mouth way too easily invaded. The salty taste that rubs against his tongue causes him to gag, but he does his best not to look too bothered even when the man takes a tight hold of his hair in order to keep his head in place. 

“It goes without saying, but I hope you don’t try to bite - if you even have the strength for that,” the man laugh breathily, definitely happy to be inside of Lupin’s mouth. “Or else I’ll make sure to knock all the teeth right out of your pretty little mouth. Understood?”

Lupin instinctively makes a sound of acknowledgement, before chastising himself for it as if somehow he could’ve done anything else at the moment. 

“Good boy, good boy. See, you can be pretty docile when you want to,” the man grins, petting Lupin’s hair in a way that makes his skin crawl. 

His throat closes up despite Lupin’s best effort to keep himself calm, and he regrets it instantly as the man is very quick to thrust himself deeply inside of his mouth. Lupin gags immediately, choking on the man’s too large cock that pushes itself at the back of his throat, and it takes all of Lupin’s strength to blink away the semblance of tears that try to make their way into his eyes. 

No way in hell would he let himself cry in front of these fuckers. 

The man’s groans are disgusting. The feeling of his cock twitching inside of his mouth is disgusting. The way Lupin can’t stop himself from drooling all over himself is disgusting. He does his best to ignore it, however, instead closing his eyes and imagining it to be someone else. Anyone else, in any other circumstances. 

This definitely helps him relax enough to not gag as badly on the man’s cock anymore. It’s then that Lupin feels a little more control over himself, filling his mind as best as he can with positivity. With how fun getting his face fucked usually is when he does this with Jigen, or even some stranger he’d met at a bar. How he wishes Jigen and Goemon had accepted his demands for them to spit roast him one of these days. Maybe he could bring it up again sometimes soon - though considering the way his stomach turns at the thought, perhaps it shouldn’t be so soon after all. 

He distracts himself enough that he actually is surprised when hands grab at his hips and pull them up, before tensing again when two fingers that are slick with lube force themselves inside of his ass. He can’t stop the groan that escapes him, then, before feeling sick at how pleased the man fucking his mouth is when he feels the vibrations of Lupin’s voice around his cock. 

“Continue making this bitch moan,” he even tells his friend, who laughs. 

“Aye aye,” he says, his fingers reaching deeply inside of Lupin. They’re more interested in lubing him up than pleasing him or properly preparing him for the upcoming insertion, though, shown by how the man does nothing more than thrust a couple of time before pulling out. So much for making him moan, Lupin things to himself, although he supposes he should be grateful. 

What he’s not grateful for, however, is the dick that very, very quickly follows the fingers. Way too quickly. It’s big, big, way too big, way too rough, and Lupin’s eyes shoot open as it forces itself inside of him. Despite the lube, and the miserable amount of preparation, it still feels like he’s being split open, the pain shooting up from his lower back and spreading through his entire body. It hurts, so much, that Lupin finds his jaw clenching instinctively, which in turns result in him weakly sinking his teeth into the dick inside his mouth as he fights back against the muffled scream that claws itself out of his throat. 

The man inside his mouth shouts in return, yanking Lupin’s hair in order to pull him off his dick. “The fuck did I say about biting?!” he yells, his hand moving from Lupin’s hair to his throat and squeezing. That, accompanied by the guy behind him uncaringly shoving himself in and out quickly, roughly, makes it very hard for Lupin to breathe.

And yet he smiles. A wobbly, pained and sort of apologetic smile that causes the other guy to click his tongue and squeeze at his throat, before mumbling that he’s lucky people paid a fortune to have Lupin properly fucked and tortured before they kill him. 

Then he lets go, and Lupin’s forced right back on his dick without much more ceremony. He’s not even allowed to catch his breath properly, causing Lupin to choke all over again as his throat is invaded once more. 

Lupin’s starting to feel dangerously dizzy from it all. He’s not sure if it’s the pain, or the useless adrenaline building up in his body, or the lack of air. Perhaps it’s the anger and frustration building up, the voice in his mind that screams at him to fight back causing his head to turn as the rest of his body refuses to listen. 

All he can do is take it. Squeeze his eyes shut and breathe as best as he can as he waits for it to be over. Relax his throat and let himself be pounded into mercilessly until it’s all over. Stomach the pain that shoot through his lower back with each thrust. Ignore the mocking remarks thrown at him. Ignore the painful awareness that a good portion of the entire world is watching this happen with glee. 

It’s extremely difficult, even for Lupin, not to let it get to him. 

The man in his mouth finishes first. Surprisingly, he doesn’t force Lupin to choke on his cum. Instead, he yanks Lupin’s head back, and releases all over his face. Because of course he would. 

“A dear viewer asked so kindly, I couldn’t refuse,” he even makes sure to inform Lupin as he grabs his jaw and rubs his spunk on his skin. 

It’s disgusting. Lupin wants to puke. His eyes burn with anger so strong that, if looks could kill, everyone in the room would be dead by now. The man finds the look to be amusing, however, as he huffs a laugh and ruffles Lupin’s hair.

“You look so cute when you’re angry. Can get why people wanna see your pretty ass get wrecked,” he says, his tone dripping with mockery. Lupin wishes he could bite his face off. 

He remembers his earlier resolve, however and forces a smile back on his face. “Thanks,” he even finds the strength to mutter, although he’s unsure how comprehensible it must be considering everything. 

The man behind him is also pretty quick to finish. He, contrary to the previous one, has no desire to cover Lupin’s skin with his cum. Instead, he shoves himself all the way in, his fingers digging so deeply into Lupin’s skin that he swears his hips will end up with very ugly bruises. Lupin bites at his bottom lip and shudders, then, eyes falling shut at the feeling of cum filling him right up. 

Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting. It’s incredible how something he can enjoy so much with the right people, can feel so awfully disgusting in the wrong situations. 

After he’s done, the guy behind him pulls out, and makes sure to smack Lupin’s ass before he shoves him back down on the floor. Lupin hisses, both in anger but pain, while the men around him laugh. 

They shift around him, certainly in order to take turns, since two of them haven’t had the chance to have their fun yet. Lupin takes a deep breath, making sure to enjoy this small moment of rest as much as he can. He even takes the time to glance over at the screen, in hopes to see some secret messages left by his friends. Anything. The smallest of hints that they might be on his trail.

All he gets is complaints, however, from viewers who are quite disappointed about how little fun Lupin seems to be having. Lupin would find amusement from such comment, if it weren’t from the laughs that erupts all around him as the men read them, as well as the promise of “oh, we can change that, as long as you pay” that follow. 

The donations to give Lupin an aphrodisiac come pouring in almost immediately. “Look at how much everyone wants you to have fun. Aren’t you grateful, mister Lupin the third?” their boss hums, before producing some small, strange looking bottle from his jacket and tossing it at one of his men. “Make him drink this.”

Oh, he’s so grateful, Lupin wants to bitterly mutter. His eyes glare at the man that makes his way to kneel in front of him, a large hand coming to take hold of Lupin’s chin and hold his face up. No matter how much efforts Lupin puts into trying to tilt his head away, the man holds him too firmly for him to move an inch. 

He watches as the man pulls the cap off the bottle with his teeth, before he actually pours the content in his own mouth. Lupin raises a questioning eyebrow at him, but his silent confusion is answered pretty quickly as the man forces him into an open mouthed kiss. The sweet tasting liquid forces its way into Lupin’s mouth, and the man is quick to use his free hand to pinch Lupin’s nose in order to force him to swallow it all down.

Lupin does put a bit of a struggle, choking a bit on the liquid before his body instinctively gulps it down. He curses himself for what is however a natural reaction, and gasps for air when he’s finally freed, coughing a couple of time and making a sound of complaint as his throat aches from nearly drowning on a stupid aphrodisiac. 

“The effects should be showing up soon,” their boss tells them, eyes staring at Lupin in interest. 

Lupin ignores his gaze, instead focusing on the stream of happy comments that fill up the screen. Or at least, he tries, as his vision goes more and more blurry with each pounding beat of his heart. His breathing speeds up, even when Lupin does his best to keep it down, and he unfortunately feels heat flare up in his body, causing his skin to burn as if he’d been dumped into a tub of lava. The intensity of the sudden arousal causes his ears to ring, like an alarm that begs him to save himself somehow, while all of this new heat comes pooling down at his crotch so quickly that it almost hurts. 

Fuck. Lupin chews on his lips, his hips twitching up on their own accord. His body trembles, his now fully hard cock aches, and if he had any strength in his body, no doubt he would be trying his damn best to rub himself against the floor in search of friction. 

It’s like his entire mind goes blank for a minute, then, as Lupin can’t even think about how unhappy he is that all of this is happening. Instead, all he can think about is how hot he feels, how needy he feels, how the smallest of breath against his skin causes him to twitch as the men lean in with interest. 

His breath hitches as lips come in contact with his skin. It’s never been harder to keep quiet, as they nip at him and suck possessive marks over his neck, shoulders, over his chest and his thighs. They ravish him with touches that his body so suddenly craves, and Lupin has to fight against himself in order to remember that this is absolutely horrible. 

The worst is that they seem to want to take their time, now. Instead of simply forcing him on their dicks again, the two men that surround him make sure to drag it out as much as possible. They make sure to touch him all over, and comment about how his body’s now naturally leaning against all of them. They make sure to kiss him languidly, to drag their tongues over his aching, leaking member, to pinch and twist as his now over-sensitive nipples. 

They make sure to rub their fingers against his abused hole before pushing in slowly, carefully. The gentleness is almost unwelcome, as Lupin’s body now begs for touches, for relief, for intensity. It’s like the whole world turned upside down, Lupin letting out gasping breaths as his body shakes desperately and the men shush him to be patient. 

He hates it. 

Fingers come to rub at his inner walls, gently fucking him and adding more and more carefully. Eventually, they reach something that causes an involuntary moan to escape from Lupin’s parted lips, and the man fingering him smirks and takes the time to rub at it insistently. Lupin’s lips tremble, his face reddened from shame, anger and arousal as his legs twitch and hips rock along with the motion of the guy’s fingers. It feels good. It feels good, it feels good - way too good. It shouldn’t feel so good.

Lupin shouldn’t be wanting this. 

A part of him tells him that, hey, maybe he should be grateful that he can enjoy himself. Maybe he should give in, close his eyes, imagine his friends to be doing this just like he’d tried to earlier. But somehow, the fact that his body is so aroused and out of his control sours all of his thoughts. Because it isn’t his choice to enjoy this, therefore even his pleasure feels disgusting. 

An endless stream of moans pour out of his mouth no matter how much Lupin tries to bite at the inside of his cheek to silence himself. They only grow in intensity as the fingers inside of him speed up, before sounding absolute heartbroken when they’re pulled out. 

“Aw, don’t worry sweetheart, you’re about to get much better than that,” the man that had been fingering him says, pressing a kiss against his jaw before burying his face against Lupin’s neck. 

Lupin lets out hot pants followed by slightly confused sounds as he’s shifted around until he’s sitting upright against the other pan’s chest, his legs spread wide in front of the other. His mind’s growing foggy, way too foggy for him to guess the obvious follow up no matter how hard he tries. 

At least, he doesn’t have to wait for long, as one of the men - the one behind him - presses his cock inside of him slowly. Lupin lets out a long, shaky sigh, his eyes fluttering shut as he’s slowly filled. 

While there is still some pain due to the extremely rough time the other guy had given him, it somehow feels so good to be full again. It’s like his body begs for it, thinks he has to be filled or else he might very well lose it. He twitches all over, tightening around the man’s member as shivers course through his spine. Lips press against the back of his shoulder, kissing their way up to his ear, before sighing right against it.

“Your moans are so cute. Even the people watching think so. Aren’t you happy to be entertaining them like that?” the man whispers, and Lupin hates, hates, hates the way his dick twitches at the sound of his low voice reminding him of their audience. He hates how the thought of millions of eyes being on him at this moment somehow feels way too appealing. He hates it. He hates it all. 

Lupin’s lips quiver. Think about something else, anything else, he tells himself. Try to give in and let yourself feel good without worrying, he tells himself. It would be so much easier that way, yet Lupin doubts his pride would be able to take it. It’s already being wounded enough as it is. 

He doesn’t get to lose himself in his thoughts much more, however, as another pair of lips come in contact with his skin. It’s the guy sitting in front of him, who shifts in closer and kisses Lupin’s jaw before pressing their lips together. A tongue follows, pushing past Lupin’s lips, and he somehow finds himself drowning in the following languid kiss he’s being offered. The man drinks Lupin’s involuntary moans, taking it slow, gentle, hot, as his hands slide down Lupin’s sides to rest at his hips. Then, he guides his cock to Lupin’s already occupied entrance and pushes in, stretching Lupin open far wider than he should be.

Lupin’s eyes shoot open at the realization that they’d both planned to fuck him at the same time. His breath catches in his throat, but the man behind him quickly shushes him and nuzzles his neck, whispering gentle words at him and telling him to breathe in deeply. They’re acting as if this whole situation was normal, and as if they truly were gentle lovers wanting to make Lupin feel good. The thought causes a disgusted shudder to course through Lupin’s whole body, his brows furrowing, although he supposes it’s better than the other men’s previous roughness. 

He does his best to relax, although it’s hard when he feels so, so desperately full. He swears he’s about to be split cleanly in half, his vision darkening a little. And yet he moans. He moans and whines and trembles, his fingers twitching uselessly at his sides as he wishes he could move his arms and wrap them around the man in front, wishes he could grip at something and dig his nails into the man’s skin. 

But he can’t. He can’t do anything. 

All he can do is moan uselessly, even though he doesn't want to do that. His body is completely limp aside from its occasional twitching and shaking. No matter how much he concentrates on moving even just an inch, he finds his body completely unresponsive. Just how long will this drug stay active? How long will he stay useless for? 

The men are kind enough, Lupin notes bitterly, to let him accommodate to their length before they actually start to move. Their thrusts are deep, slow, calculated. They drag long, drawn out moans from Lupin as they make sure to thrust right into his prostate, causing Lupin’s vision to flash with each of their movements. His ears ring. His grasp on reality fades. It’s too much.

It’s all just too, too much. His body is so overly sensitive due to the aphrodisiac, that each kiss, each nip, each breath that even so much as grazes against his skin causes him to shiver all over. He’s like putty in the hands that are so happy to explore his body, to grope him and scratch him. He’s completely losing himself, without any way to ground himself and remind himself of the situation. 

It’s just too much. 

Their thrusts grow quicker, stronger, and Lupin takes it all way too happily. Drool drips from the corner of his lips, while sweat rolls down his temple. Pressure builds up through his entire body, and it’s when the man in front of him decide to stroke him quickly along with their thrusts that Lupin is brought over the edge.

His orgasm is way too strong. Like a bomb going off, whose explosion causes Lupin to black out for what feels like a full minute. His body twitches, and he tightens around the men inside him so much that they both groan and dig their nails into Lupin’s sides. Stars fill Lupin’s blurry vision, his head lolling back as a moan much louder than the previous ones claws its way out of him. His own cum stains his stomach, as well as the man in front of him’s hand, and for a moment, Lupin actually feels content as his mind empties itself of the awareness of his surroundings. 

They fuck him through his orgasm, and then some more, the men wishing to bring themselves to completion as well. Lupin is so caught up in his happily little cloud that he doesn’t even mind the slight discomfort his body feels as they keep going, and only whines a bit when they both finish inside. 

They pull out with a disgusting wet sound, allowing all of their release to drip out of Lupin’s entrance as they lay him back down. The simple motion causes the world to spin dangerously, even as Lupin firmly keeps his eyes closed. His heart pounds deafeningly in his ears, to the point where Lupin has quite a bit of troubles hearing anything else. 

“He looks so fucked out already,” one of the men mocks, nudging at Lupin with his heavy boot. 

“We did go pretty hard on him,” another laughs. 

“Not according to our commenters,” yet another responds with an audible frown. “They’re asking for him to be miserable again. One minute it’s ‘oh Lupin’s too upset let’s give him aphrodisiacs’, and the other it’s “oh he’s too happy let’s beat him up’. Make up your damn mind!”

Lupin’s awareness comes back little by little as he does his best to follow the conversation, although his head is still filled with too much cotton to form any coherent thoughts. It’s starting to be difficult to believe that all of this is real, that he’d just been fucked in front of millions and moaned like a bitch due to an aphrodisiac. It’s hard to believe he’s there. It’s hard to believe this isn’t some really weird, elongated dream from which Lupin’s due to wake up.

The distinct sound coming in from someone donating to the stream, as well as the grin from the men around him definitely help, though. Especially when one of them says “With pleasure” to whatever the commenters asked for, before kicking Lupin right in his stomach. 

Lupin’s breath is stolen away from the strength of the kick, which causes his body to slam against the wall right behind him. His lunch comes right up his throat, and although Lupin manages to keep it down with the first kick, it forces its way out of his mouth with the second. 

Lupin coughs and spits on the floor, gasping and wheezing as his body instinctively curls up. Does it mean he’s regaining some strength? God, it’s hard to think through the misery, through the drug, through how overwhelmed they’ve made him. He tries to blink his eyes open, but his vision is blurry, wet. Are his eyes crying on their own? Lupin doesn’t know. His mouth tastes disgusting.

“Eww, look at what y’all made him do!” one of the men laughs uncontrollably. If Lupin could focus on the screen, he’s sure he’d seen plenty of comments mocking him for puking, too, and for looking so miserable. Perhaps his inability to see properly is a blessing. 

Another kick comes, except that this time it hits Lupin right in the ribs. Another follows, and another, forcing wheezing shouts to escape him. With one of them, Lupin can feel something break, a sharp pain overtaking his entire body and causing a much louder, pained sound to erupt from him. He starts to choke on air, then, as each inhale causes this stabbing pain to come back. If he weren’t teary eyed before, he definitely is now.

More ringing sounds come in - so many in fact, that it’s overwhelming and definitely annoying. “God damn, you’re so popular, dear Lupin…” one of the men mutters, grabbing Lupin by the hair to lift his head up to face him. “Our viewers love you so much, they want to leave their individual marks on you. Isn’t that sweet?”

Lupin’s eyebrows furrow. He’s not sure what the guy means, eyes darting around as they catch motion on all his sides. 

His arm is grabbed, and almost instantly he feels a cold blade slicing at his skin in calculated motions. Lupin chews on his lips harshly, digging his teeth in so much that he might make himself bleed. Eyes squeeze shut, and despite it all, he finds himself confusedly focusing on the motion of the blade, knowing it to be writing something. 

It’s hard to actually make out which letters are being carved into him, in which order - but a comment from one of the men around him upin hearing another ringing noise helps him figure out what the actual fuck is happening:

“Another?! Hey, this guy’s not large enough to fit a hundred names, so all of you chill the fuck out!”

They’re writing names on him. People are donating to have their names carved on his skin with a knife. Lupin feels himself gag again, causing one of the men to shake him and hold a knife against his throat, threatening him to slice it right up if he pukes on him. As if Lupin had any control on what his body did right now. 

This is bad. 

Though truly, he’s not really sure what’s worse: getting fucked by these assholes, or getting physically tortured by them. At least he’s a bit more used to the physical pain, but it’s also the one thing that Lupin knows he can’t derive even the smallest bit of pleasure from. It all just makes him hope he’ll pass out soon already. 

Everything that follows happens in a blur, and Lupin is pretty sure he blacks out a couple of times. It’s almost strange, considering he likes to think of himself as pretty resilient to pain, but perhaps the drug is making him more vulnerable than he’d like. They keep punching him, kicking him, cutting into him so much that Lupin’s pretty sure he’s covered in dried blood by the time they put their knives down. They even stomp on his hands, causing a few fingers to bend unnaturally and crack in a way that tears a scream out of Lupin, and cause tears to naturally drip down his face no matter how much he tries to hold them back. 

It’s hell. Someone actually donates to stab his eye out, and Lupin is only saved when another person donates a much larger sum of money to keep his eyes intact. The men around him groan in complaint, having grown a little excited to torture Lupin, while Lupin silently thanks the generous donator for his grace. He wonders if it may be one of his friends, actually - especially considering the other donations that come in asking to let Lupin rest. 

Lupin doesn’t know. He’s too tired to think too far about this, his eyes falling shut immediately as he’s thrown back on the floor. 

“Perhaps they’re right, and we should let you rest before going at it again. Might be more fun to have you more conscious for what’s coming next,” one of the men says, and their boss agrees, clapping his hands twice and motioning to his men to leave. 

Except they don’t get that far. 

There’s a sudden, loud commotion outside the door that causes them all to freeze and exchange a quick look, before they take cover. One of them goes to grab for Lupin, but the door to the room bursts open just before he manages to, and he’s the first to be shot down. 

Armed forces rush in, too many for it to be his friends. Is it Zenigata’s crew then? Lupin’s lips quirk down, and he uses the tiny bit of strength that has started to come back to his body to curl up, as if he could somehow hide himself and his misery, as if the entire planet hadn’t already been watching with glee. 

Comments reacting live to the situation flood the screen. Surprise, anger, sadness and confusion fills the watchers, although some of them seem to be excited to see Lupin’s torturers be hurt, killed or apprehended on screen. It isn’t so much out of sympathy for Lupin, however, and simply out of strange, psychopathic blood lust that the internet is so good at. 

Meanwhile, Lupin wishes he could crawl in a hole. While he’s happy that this might be finally over, and that his torturers are getting what they deserve, he can’t help but feel buried in shame. It becomes especially bad when he does hear Zenigata’s voice yell out order, and hears some of the officers ask what they should be doing with Lupin. 

Surely it would be a good occasion to finally arrest him properly, Lupin thinks bitterly to himself. Yet, he’s pretty confident that it’s not what’s gonna happen. Especially when Zenigata hesitates before sending his men out and telling them he’ll handle it. 

It’s when Lupin is pretty sure most officers are out, and when he hears Zenigata approach him, that he finally blinks an eye open. His blurry gaze meets with Zenigata’s shocked, heartbroken one, and Lupin smiles. 

“Yo, pops. Took you… long ‘nough…” Lupin slurs, his heart somehow twisting when tears come up to flood Zenigata’s eyes. 

“Oh, Lupin…” Zenigata mutters, shoulders dropping. He seems unable to believe his eyes, and Lupin can’t really blame him. He’s pretty sure it’s the most miserable Zenigata must’ve seen him. Hell, he’s pretty sure it’s the most miserable he’s ever been, period. 

Zenigata takes a bit to steel himself, sniffling and wiping his tears away. He murmurs an apology as he leans down and covers Lupin with his large coat before he picks him up in his arms, as if it were somehow his fault that this happened, or as if he could’ve done anything more.

Lupin knows that if it took this long for Zenigata to get here, it was for a reason. He’s always been so good at sniffing out where Lupin is, after all. No doubts he did his best.

Lupin’s eyes fall closed once again as he leans in Zenigata’s comforting warmth, grateful for the cover offered by his coat. It’s finally over, he sighs to himself, his weak smile growing more genuine as he realizes that he’ll be able to properly rest. It’s done. Zenigata’s here. He’ll be fine. 

The last thing Lupin manages himself to say before falling into unconsciousness, is a muttered plea of “don’t let the others see me like this, pops…” that Lupin hopes Zenigata actually manages to hear despite the weakness of his voice and slur of his words.


	2. Chapter 2

Lupin awakens surrounded by sweet smelling warmth that is almost strong enough to help him forget the near agonizing pain filling his body. Fatigue keeps his eyelids heavy, while the pain in his chest keeps his breathing shallow and carefully slow. The mattress below him is soft, comfortable - something for which Lupin is grateful, as it stops him from attempting to move and drown himself in an ocean of pain. 

He keeps his half lidded eyes directed to the wall for a while, as he eases himself into consciousness. His memory of the past events is uncomfortably clear, despite how drugged up he’d been. It replays in his mind like a broken record, causing his body to tense up as he can almost feel all these hands on him again. Their invasive groping, the lips that so happily took a taste of him, the boots that stomped and stomped on him in hopes he would break. All these phantom sensations come back to haunt him and twist his stomach in a knot that seems impossible to loosen. But he ignores it. 

He ignores it, because he can, now. They aren’t actually here touching him, kissing him, fucking him or beating him. These are just memories - horrible, painful and disgusting memories of something that passed, that is over. Lupin sees no reason to dwell on it, so he forces himself not to, instead deciding to take his environment in. 

A gentle, warm light filters through the mostly closed, thin curtains covering the window. It tells Lupin that it must be dawn, or dusk - and considering how busy the street seem, the sound of passing cars reaching all the way up here, Lupin guesses it must be the latter. The room is otherwise rather bare, likely a rented inn in which his host hasn’t gotten the time to settle yet. The suitcases in the corner indicates that this is the bedroom that he’d been sleeping in rather than an empty guest room, which means he sacrificed his bed for Lupin’s sake. 

Lupin smiles softly. How sweet. 

He spots his own clothes, folded neatly on a chair next to the bed. Zenigata must’ve washed them, Lupin thinks, and must have not wanted to disturb Lupin’s sleep too much by helping him back into them. Over on the bedside table lay Lupin’s phone, as well as a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a note.

Lupin raises a curious eyebrow, and reaches to grab it. His face contorts in a grimace, then, as simply moving his arm hurts like all hell. It’s when he takes the note in hand, too, that he remembers his poor broken fingers - which have kindly been bandaged up by Zenigata, Lupin notes- and he has to bite at the inside of his cheek to stop himself from whining. 

“If you awaken while I’m not here, please don’t try to run. It’s too dangerous outside for your state - Zenigata,” Lupin reads out loud, before chuckling softly. His broken ribs protest against his amusement, but he does his best to brush it off. “As if I could move in this state…”

Not only that, but the sound as well as the smell of food coming from right outside the door lets Lupin know that Zenigata is home. It’s a relief, especially because whatever he’s cooking smells very good. The scent causes Lupin’s stomach to growl, and he belatedly realizes that he must not have eaten in a while. Might explain how weak he feels. 

He doesn’t even have it in himself to put the note back down on the bedside table, and instead keeps it weakly clutched in his hand which rests on top of his bandaged chest. His eyes then fall closed again as he decides to rest a bit until Zenigata is done with dinner, definitely not having it in himself to come meet him outside the room. 

It takes a while - so much so that Lupin actually finds himself falling back asleep for a bit until the sound of approaching footsteps wake him back up. It takes him half a second to remember that it isn’t a threat, and is nothing more than Zenigata carefully coming in the room with a plate of food. 

From his approach, he’s definitely making sure not to wake Lupin up in case he’s still asleep. It makes Lupin smile, and he takes it upon himself to wave at him despite the pain, just like he’d done when Zenigata had come save him back then.

“Good morning to my knight in shining armor,” Lupin greets him, and although he says those words in a joking manner, his eyes are soft as they meet with Zenigata’s own.

“Oh, you’re awake…” Zenigata replies with just a bit of surprise. He definitely sounds relieved, and yet his face is absolutely devoid of a smile. “I was starting to get worried. How are you feeling? I got… a buddy of mine to look over your wounds and take care of you, but if you’re still in pain, I can offer you some painkillers,” he tells him, putting the plate of food down on the bedside table. “Although I would recommend you eat first.”

“Always so doting, pops,” Lupin sighs softly, pushing himself up and groaning the whole way. He grits his teeth harshly, finding all breath knocked out of him for a solid moment, while his body shudders in pain. Zenigata’s lips quirk down at the sight, while Lupin forces a chuckle out of himself. “I think I’d definitely like those painkillers,” he announces as he tries his best to massage his chest and closes his eyes.

Oh, he feels like absolute garbage.

“I’ll… go get them for you,” Zenigata replies, walking over to a surprisingly messy desk in order to retrieve the medicine. It isn’t like him to be so disorderly, Lupin notes with a frown, and he wonders if he’s been overly busy lately, or if this whole mess is a result of his rescue. 

“Thanks,” Lupin replies, distracted from Zenigata’s movements by the gentle steam that his food emits. He picks up the plate with a too shaky, too weak hand, and actually drops his fork a couple of times before he manages to hold it properly, cursing his stupid broken hand. He then doesn’t lose a second to wolf it all down, despite the way the food burns at his tongue, if only because of how monstrously hungry he finds himself. 

Zenigata frowns upon witnessing that when he turns back around to face Lupin, saying something about how he might choke on the food if he’s not careful. Lupin replies something about how he’s gonna sound like Jigen if he continues, considering how many times his partner has reprimanded him for eating way too much, way too fast after some particularly bad injuries.

Will none of them understand that food is one of the best remedies in this kind of situation? Lupin would shake his head if he wasn’t so busy filling his mouth.

“Uwaah, your cooking’s so good, pops!” Lupin exclaims with laughter in his voice once he’s done. “I should let myself be caught more often if it means you’d cook for me like that!”

Zenigata doesn’t answer, which is definitely a little strange, considering how quick he would be to quip back usually. Instead, he’s just starting at Lupin with a certain sadness that makes Lupin a little uncomfortable. 

“C’mon, lighten up a little, old man. I thought you’d be happier to have your favorite thief in your grasp. I’m not even in any state to run, doesn’t that excite you a little?” Lupin jokes, batting his eyelashes at Zenigata and smirking up at him. Surely that’ll get a reaction from him.

“N-no-- I’d never think of- I wouldn’t take advantage of you like…!” Zenigata sputters, his face reddening at Lupin’s flirtations. It’s a good reaction, yet it comes off weak, especially as Zenigata’s eyes can’t help themselves but travel down Lupin’s battered body, causing his shoulders to sag down at the sight. “Ah… by the way, here…” he tries to change the subject, handing Lupin the painkillers he’d mentioned earlier.

“Thank you, pops~” Lupin chirps back, deciding to show enough cheerfulness for the both of them as he swallows down a couple of quite large pills. 

Then follows a silence, in which Zenigata keeps studying Lupin with discomfort so thick that Lupin’s pretty sure he could cut through it with a knife. It’s obvious he wants to say something, but is too scared to, and it causes Lupin to sigh. 

“What is it?” he asks.

Zenigata jumps a little. “W-what?”

“You want to say something, don’t you? So, what is it?” Lupin repeats, resting his chin on his palm. 

“I…” Zenigata hesitates, eyes darting around, before he deflates. “I just didn’t expect you to be able to act so cheerful after what happened, is all.”

Lupin smiles, then. It’s a soft, gentle smile, that he hopes can make Zenigata feel better somehow. “I don’t really have any reason not to smile now that it’s all over and that I’m getting taken care of by my favorite old man,” he replies, tilting his head to the side. 

This however, only manages to deepen Zenigata’s frown. He opens his mouth to say something - probably a protest telling him that he does have many reasons not to smile, actually - before deciding against it. “But….”

“I’m fine, pops,” Lupin reassures him, his voice softer now. “You’re the one that’s the most hung up over all of this! C’mon!” he then adds with a grin, a hand coming to scratch at his own hair. “My stay here is gonna be kind of awkward if you keep being so down! I’m telling you, shouldn’t you take advantage of this? It’s not so often that you have me unable to run away from you! And since my presence here rather than in prison indicates that you’re not currently interested in arresting me…”

“Lupin!!” Zenigata exclaims, his face reddening once more, while his shoulders reach all the way to his ears. “You can’t keep fooling around like this! I refuse to believe you’re fine! The fact that you keep telling me you won’t run away is a proof of it!” he insists, before his lips quiver. “There’s no way you could be fine after this! You even… asked me not to let the others see, haven’t you? This doesn’t make you sound fine!”

Lupin pouts. “Well, that was then…” he mutters, looking away. “I didn’t feel like burdening them back then, but if you continue being so unfun perhaps I’ll give Jigen a call,” he says, a sour taste filling his mouth. The thought of calling Jigen pushes him to glance at his phone, and he bites back a grimace once he witnesses the amount of missed messages and calls. Ah.

“This isn’t the problem, Lupin!” Zenigata responds, taking a step closer. His hand goes to grab at Lupin’s shoulder, before Zenigata quickly realizes how bad of an idea it is considering Lupin’s state, leaving his hand to hover awkwardly over Lupin’s shoulder. “You can’t pretend you’re fine now, Lupin. Not with the state I found you in.”

“I very much can, and I will, because I truly am fine,” Lupin replies with a certain childish insolence. “I only said I can’t run away because my body’s in pain, but aside from that, I’ve never felt better!” he’s fully lying now, but it doesn’t matter. “Isn’t it a little cruel of you to try to make me cry over it? Hmm, pops?” he then teases, raising an eyebrow leaning in closer to Zenigata - so close in fact that their foreheads are almost touching. “Is it a secret fetish of yours?”

“I-- stop messing around!” Zenigata snaps, getting over his fear of hurting Lupin in order to grab at his shoulders. He does so a bit too tightly despite his care, causing Lupin to hiss and Zenigata’s face to immediately contort in a regretful grimace, before his anger comes back and he shakes Lupin a couple of times. “You have a multitude of fractured bones, your body is covered in bruises, your voice sounds so rough and weak, you look so tired, you have multiple people’s names carved onto your skin - how can you be fine?! So many people watched you get-- get--!”

“I know that!” Lupin snaps in return, raising his voice despite the way his throat protests. “But what’s the point of crying over that now that it’s all over?!”

“To process it!” Zenigata responds. “This isn’t easily something you can laugh off, Lupin!”

“It absolutely is!”

“No, it isn’t! To ignore the hurt you’ve been through is only going to--” Zenigata tries to argue, before Lupin cuts him off.

“Enough, Zenigata!” Lupin raises his voice once more, and the extremely rare use of his name is enough to shut Zenigata right up. He looks like his heart was ripped right out of his chest, so much so that Lupin can’t help but feel a twinge of regret. Despite that, he frowns and stares away, before grabbing the pack of cigarette Zenigata had left him and pushing himself up to his feet. “... I’m going for a smoke. We can have a better discussion later.”

It’s not like him to take the precaution of smoking outside, and Zenigata must know it. Lupin doesn’t exactly care about how obvious it is that he just wants to evade the situation, however, and simply walks out of the room on way too shaky legs. 

At least the painkillers have had the time to take effect, diminishing the agony he feels as he forces himself to move. 

“Wait, Lupin--” Zenigata calls out, and Lupin is about to brush him off, when Zenigata grabs at his wrist. “You can’t… you should stay away from windows. People might see you, and it’s already been hard to keep low…”

Lupin narrows his eyes, remaining silent for a bit. “... I guess it’s why we’re not in your apartment, huh?” he then comments, having noted that this wasn’t the place he knew Zenigata to be staying at. He sighs, then, before pulling his arm out of Zenigata’s grasp. “I’ll be in your bathroom, then. I need to take a shower anyway.”

With that, he leaves, making sure not to offer Zenigata any further chance to protest before he closes the bathroom door. It’s then that he discovers with displeasure that its lock doesn’t work, although he supposes it doesn’t matter much. With all that happened, he doubt Zenigata would try to force his way in now. 

Lupin lets out a long, pained exhale as he sits down on the edge of the tub. There’s a small, curtain-covered window on the wall next to him, from which he takes a peek. Passersby fill the noisy streets, all looking down at their phone, and Lupin feels a bout of nausea as he wonders “has this person witnessed what happened to me? what about this one?”. 

Millions of people were watching, after all. Not only that, but even the people who didn’t actively watch and participate must know about what happened. They must have heard it on the news, or from hearsay on social medias. It must’ve been all the internet and news outlets could talk about, and Lupin is just a bit grateful that he didn’t take his phone with him as he left to sulk in the bathroom, if only because it saves him from looking himself up. 

He tries to remind himself that everyone will forget about this in a couple of months, and at worst a year. The thing is, ending this whole game by faking his death makes it easy for people to forget. But to have him endure such torture in front of everyone’s eyes add a certain shock value that will keep his story on everyone’s mind for much, much longer. 

Not only that, but the thought of people hearing his name and thinking “Oh, isn’t it the thief who got tortured and fucked on screen in front of millions of people?” makes Lupin feel really, really sick. 

He clicks his tongue, before putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it up. This should calm him down, he hopes as he takes a long drag from it, exhaling a cloud of smoke slowly and closing his eyes. Thinking rationally, this shouldn’t change his plans too much. It will just take longer for people to forget, but they will. There’ll be another horrific story to catch their attention away from him. His story will become nothing but a forgotten urban legend at best. 

So why does it bother him so much?

“Damn you, pops… this is all your fault,” he mutters to himself, shaking his head a little. If it wasn’t for Zenigata’s nagging, for his insistence that this is a big deal, he surely wouldn’t be thinking about it so much. It’s now that he regrets asking Zenigata to keep him away from the rest of his group, realizing that Jigen and Goemon would’ve probably been too uncomfortable to ever bring it up again.

It’s just that, back then, he couldn’t stomach the thought of being face to face with them after all of this. No doubt Jigen was absolutely furious watching what was happening - if he even dared to. As for Goemon… no, Lupin can’t even imagine him watching this stream at all.

He hopes they managed to keep Ami from watching. God knows that she can be insistent. 

All of this only leaves Fujiko as the most probable watcher of his misfortune. He wonders how she felt. Was she horrified? Or did she perhaps enjoy the show? Lupin snorts. No way. Fujiko can be a little cruel at times, and enjoy a bit of rough play, but Lupin knows she wouldn’t enjoy that kind of rough play. 

Lupin doesn’t know what to do, or think, which is rare for him. He doesn’t like how jumbled his thoughts are, and how… confused he is about what he wants. Does he want to sneak out and join his friends? No doubt they know where he is and would be quick to pick him up, which would make leaving easy despite his miserable state. Does he want them to see him like this, though? Does he wants to face them so soon after everything that happened? 

He doesn’t know. It wouldn’t be as easy to pretend like nothing happened. He doubts Jigen and Goemon would try to bring it up, but he also doubts they’d be good at hiding their discomfort either. 

It’s not like being with Zenigata is any better, though. Lupin really doesn’t understand this impulsive need to ask for Zenigata to be the one to take care of him. If he had been in any clearer state of mind when Zenigata had come to his rescue, no doubt he would’ve seen the awkward and painful conversation coming. Yet, he’s still somehow content to be with him rather than anyone else. There’s a certain warmth in his chest that refuses to leave, despite their recent argument. 

Lupin takes another long drag of his cigarette, hoping to fill his mind with fog to keep himself from thinking too much. He remains sitting there, on Zenigata’s tub, his eyes absolutely avoiding the nearby mirror as he contemplates his feelings about the situation, for quite some time. He doesn’t really know how much time passes, not even noticing how far gone his cigarette is, before an awkward knock on the door takes him out of his thoughts. 

Right. He should probably stop sulking. 

“Come in, the lock’s broken,” Lupin calls out. 

There’s a bit of hesitation, with a mutter from Zenigata that Lupin doesn’t quite discern, before the door eventually opens to show a surprisingly bashful looking Zenigata. “You said you’d shower but I didn’t hear the water running so I got worried…” he admits, scratching his hair. Is he pouting? He kind of looks like he’s pouting. Lupin giggles. 

“Admit you just wanted to spy on me showering~ !” he teases, having completely forgotten that he’d spoken about doing that. It both sounds like a great and awful idea - he feels disgusting and dirty, so showering would be nice, but he’s also reluctant to take a look at his wounds. 

“You also forgot your clothes,” Zenigata adds, ignoring Lupin’s joke as he makes his way to the tub, handing them to Lupin. 

“I thought I’d give you the privilege to admire my naked body for a bit longer,” Lupin responds. Despite their earlier fight and Zenigata’s previous displeasure over Lupin’s joking responses, this time he simply frowns but let it slide, instead sitting next to Lupin and looking at the wall in front of himself. 

“If you need help shower--” he tries to propose, before Lupin shakes his head.

“I’m fine, pops, though I’d definitely love to shower together with you~” Lupin replies, his voice first soft before he grins at Zenigata again. 

“...Right,” is Zenigat’s only answer, muttered in a low, defeated voice that causes Lupin’s smile to fall right away. 

Lupin looks down at his long-finished cigarette, and feels the need to light up another one. He normally wouldn’t hesitate much, but despite his desire, smoking feels like too much trouble at the moment. Instead, he leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes, gathering his thoughts before he speaks again.

“Say, pops. Why do you think I do the stuff that I do?” Lupin asks after a long, uncomfortable silence. 

“Huh? Well…” Zenigata is taken a bit by surprise, pressing his lips together and studying Lupin’s face to try and understand why he’d even asked that, before he actually replies. “I think you like how thrilling and fun it is. I think you also like a good challenge, and like to prove yourself. You also enjoy the attention.”

“The attention?” Lupin repeats. While he’d expected Zenigata to answer all of these, he’s just a bit surprised by that last one. “I think this whole thing proves that perhaps I don’t want that much attention.”

Zenigata smiles a bit. “Well, while I believe you enjoy the attention, I do think you’re aware that too much of it isn’t good either. But if you didn’t like attention at all, your theatrics would be much different. Your answer to the Lupin Game would’ve been different, too.”

Lupin hums. “I guess you’re right,” he replies, looking up at the ceiling. “You know me so well, pops,” he then smiles and elbows Zenigata gently, ignoring the muttered complaints he receives. After this comes a long sigh, Lupin’s shoulders sagging briefly. “But… yeah. I like the fun. I like the thrill. I’m not really afraid of getting hurt, or dying. There’s nothing that would make it feels like it’s not worth it. The only thing I’m afraid of is being bored,” he then admits.

“I don’t…” Zenigata trails off with confusion, but Lupin just smiles at him. 

It’s a soft, warm smile, devoid of his usual teasing amusement. “I wanna smile and laugh this off because I don’t want this to deter me from doing what I love. I’ve been through a lot, anyway - I’ve been kidnapped and tortured and put in prison multiple times. I’ve approached death multiple times. But I always survived in the end. I always smiled in the end, and moved on to the next heist. If anything, getting in trouble has always been part of the fun. ‘Will I be able to get out of this one?’ and stuff, you know?” Lupin asks. 

Zenigata remains silent through Lupin’s explanation, and Lupin isn’t sure if it’s because he doesn’t know what to say or if he doesn’t know when Lupin will be done. Either way, he appreciates it. 

“... This time did feel different, though. It’s true that being tortured by some bad guy privately, or getting shot and almost killed, is different than having this… broadcasted to millions of people. And it’s true that I’ve been a little reluctant to face the others again, because… because I don’t want things to be awkward just because of what happened. I don’t want them to ask me, ‘don’t you want to retire, Lupin?’ or ‘don’t you want to take things slow for a while, Lupin?’. I don’t want them to be more careful, and I don’t want to seem defeated. The worst thing I could do right now is let this defeat me.”

“...Lupin,” Zenigata finally speaks after Lupin grows quiet for a while. He takes it upon himself to grasp Lupin’s hand in his own, while using the other to cup Lupin’s cheek and guide him to face him. “Allowing yourself to process the hurt you’ve been through and react accordingly isn’t admitting defeat. You can smile and laugh later when you actually feel like it, but to push it all away will only diminish the strength with which you can laugh. Isn’t that the opposite of what you want?”

“Well now you’re getting deep, pops…” Lupin pouts, scratching his hair. 

“I thought you were being pretty deep yourself,” Zenigata offers an attempt at a smile.

Lupin chuckles. “I guess so,” he replies, before looking down again. His free hand fidgets with his pack of cigarettes restlessly, while his leg bounces up and down. He wants to say something, but he’s quite at a loss for word, and it shows. 

“... It’s not often that I can see you being legitimately scared, Lupin,” Zenigata comments, his voice gentle but worried. 

Lupin furrows his brows. “I’m not scared!” he defends.

“You are. You don’t want the status quo to change, and you’re afraid that it will due to what happened. And… I kind of understand. I’m afraid of what this entire affair might mean for the future, too,” Zenigata admits. “While I want to catch you, and make you serve your rightful sentence, I can’t bear the thought of this much harm coming to you, and… I don’t know,” he sighs, shaking his head. 

There’s a small silence, then, before Zenigata squeezes Lupin’s hand, grabbing his attention once more. 

“...Here, why don’t we make a deal?” Zenigata asks, picking Lupin’s curiosity. “I already brought you here instead of prison, so today - and perhaps the coming days - can be considered an official truce. One that I swear to forget once it’s over, and that I swear to never bring up again,” he explains, bringing Lupin’s hand up to his face. His eyes are intense - so much so that Lupin finds himself feeling just the slightest bit uneasy. “So… open up to me, Lupin. Tell me about how you truly feel. About all the negative feelings and memories you hold. I’ll do my best to help you deal with them, to cheer you up from them - so that when you leave this place, you can truly feel like your usual self again, and everything can go back to normal. Then, I can let myself capture you without remorse,” he grins, his hold of Lupin’s hand growing so tight that Lupin squeaks in pain.

“Ow, ow ow, my fingers, my fingers my fingers my fingers!” Lupin exclaims, yanking his poor broken hand out of Zenigata’s hold. He rubs at it and whines, lips quivering in a miserable pout, while Zenigata awkwardly apologizes. 

After getting over his pain, Lupin looks back up at Zenigata and wipes a tear with a shaky smile. “You’re so sappy, pops,” he says softly, before giggling. “Truth is, I’m not really sure where to start or what to say, so here, why don’t we do things my way? I’m feeling super gross, physically, and I kinda wanna replace that with good feelings. So… can we fuck?” he asks, his uncertain smile now growing into a grin, before he sticks out his tongue and bats his eyelashes. 

“W---what???” Zenigata exclaims, absolutely taken aback. He even gets up and everything, eyes open wide while his face grows very, very red. “What-- how could you get to this conclusion after everything I said?!”

Lupin can’t help but break down laughing, then, so hard that he has to hold his belly and cough a couple of time as sharp pain hits his chest and spread through his entire body. “Ah, laughing hurts, laughing hurts!!” he complains through giggles, wheezing and whining a bit, although he still keeps laughing for a little bit under the disapproving eyes of a flabbergasted Zenigata. Once he’s calmed down, though, he offers the other a large, bright grin, and shrugs his shoulders. “Listen, sex is what hurt me back then, right? And I thought having a positive sexual experience could help me feel like my old self or whatever it was that you said! I promise that if it doesn’t work I’ll do the whole opening up thing. Pretty pleaaase? It’s not even our first time anyway! Or do you not remember that one night--”

“Enough!!!” Zenigata cuts Lupin off, waving his hands and stomping his foot, which causes Lupin to laugh some more despite how much it hurts him.

Oh, Zenigata can be so funny. 

“C’mon pops. Can’t we at least makeout? I’m sad. I’ll be even sadder if we don’t make out,” Lupin tries to persuade him, opening his arms and making kissing noises at Zenigata. 

“... You promise to open up after we do this?” Zenigata asks with hesitation, and Lupin grins widely. Oh, his pops can never resist him.

Lupin nods enthusiastically. “I promise I promise!! now come here and kiss me!” he demands, kicking his legs and waving his arms impatiently. 

Zenigata purses his lips and makes an uncomfortable sound. He visibly hesitates for a while, before Lupin’s enthusiasm gets the best of him, and he approaches him slowly. 

Lupin on the other hand is quick to take advantage of the situation. He wraps his arms around Zenigata’s neck and pulls him close before smashing their lips together in a hurried and hungry kiss. 

Zenigata kisses back almost immediately, shifting a bit so that he can sit next to Lupin once more. One of his hand finds Lupin’s waist, large fingers pressing just a bit against wounds that Lupin does his best to ignore. Zenigata’s other hand, in the meantime, actually cups Lupin’s face gently, his thumb rubbing against Lupin’s cheek. 

While Lupin wants to jump into the heated action right away, wanting to rid himself of his uncomfortable feelings as quick as possible, Zenigata tries to take it as slow and gentle as he can. It must be hard, though, when Lupin shoves his tongue in Zenigata’s mouth and makes sure to be as noisy as he can, one hand coming to tug at Zenigata’s hair while the other sneaks its way under Zenigata’s shirt and feels over his large, muscular chest. 

He can feel Zenigata’s resistance melt little by little, as it tends to happen whenever Lupin insists on having fun with him. The hold he has on Lupin’s waist grows stronger, his hand traveling up Lupin’s chest, while he leans further and further into the kiss, as if wanting to eat Lupin’s face whole. 

Things get messy quickly. Tongues and teeth clash against each other in an open mouthed kiss that causes fire to ignite throughout Lupin’s body. It’s much, much more enjoyable than the forceful kiss he’d been forced into back then. It’s much easier to feel in control while also giving said control up to Zenigata, much easier to allow himself to enjoy it, and allow himself to moan and squirm against Zenigata. 

Lupin shifts in order to sit on Zenigata’s lap, wrapping his legs around him and pressing his body flush against the other’s. From this position, he can definitely feel the beginning of a bulge pressing against his ass, and Lupin makes sure to rub himself against it in order to excite Zenigata even more. 

He revels in the way Zenigata’s hold of him tightens, in the way he groans and the way his hips stutter up into Lupin uncontrollably. If his mouth wasn’t so busy kissing Zenigata, he’d comment about how easily excited he is, although he does pull away from the kiss to mutter “fuck me…” in a hushed and heated tone that he can feel makes Zenigata’s entire body shudder.

“I--” Zenigata hesitates, his face red and eyes half lidded. He licks over his lips then, before leaning in to kiss Lupin once more. He almost lets himself pulled into another way too heated kiss, before he forcefully pulls away and shakes his head in order to clear his thoughts. “Wait-- not here,” he forces himself to say, getting up and picking Lupin up with him to carry him back to the bedroom. 

“Uwaah, so strong pops~” Lupin comments with laughter in his voice, pressing kisses upon kisses over Zenigata’s face before he dips against his neck and ravishes it too. There’s a nagging voice at the back of his head, accompanied by a certain weight in his throat, that tells him this is a bad idea, but he ignores it by making very noisy kissing noises whenever his lips connect with Zenigata’s skin. It’ll be fine.

This is okay. 

Zenigata lays Lupin down on the bed gently - a bit too gently for Lupin’s liking, if anything - before climbing on top of him. Lupin pulls him in for another kiss, but Zenigata actually grabs his shoulders and pushes him down carefully, his feverish eyes searching Lupin’s expression. 

“Are you sure this is alright?” Zenigata asks, as if he’d somehow heard Lupin’s inner thoughts as he’d forcefully reassured himself. 

“It is, it is! C’mon, stop being a pussy and fuck me, pops~!” Lupin whines, using his leg to pull down Zenigata’s hips and slam it against his own. 

Zenigata gasps and bites his lips harshly, squeezing at Lupin’s shoulders painfully before he regains control of himself and lets go. “Be patient,” he then orders as he takes off his jacket and tie, neatly putting them on the chair next to the bed. Lupin pouts at that, knowing that any time wasted is an opportunity for his discomfort to double. 

Not wanting to allow Zenigata to take it slow, he grabs his face and smashes their lips together once more - so harsh that their teeth clash together painfully. Once their lips are secured together, Lupin’s hands go to grab at Zenigata’s wrists, guiding his hands back on his chest in a demand for him to touch him. 

Zenigata’s eyes are wide open in surprise at first, before he gives into the kiss and offers Lupin more positive touches. He does break away from the kiss, but this time it’s to kiss at Lupin’s jaw and make his way down his neck, which Lupin appreciates greatly.

His eyes flutter shut, and Lupin pretends it’s simply out of pleasure rather than his reluctance to see Zenigata kiss at marks left by Lupin’s previous abusers.

“You’re being so difficult,” Zenigata does comment against his collarbone, as Lupin’s hand finds its way to Zenigata’s hair and grips tightly in order to keep him there a bit longer.

“You like it this way,” Lupin replies with a small sigh and moan when Zenigata sucks his own proof of ownership on him. 

Good. He wants Zenigata to mark him. He wants to be unable to make the difference between the hickeys left by the men who fucked him on stream, and the ones left by Zenigata. He wants to be able to see himself in the mirror and remember a positive intercourse. He wants to feel good. He wants to feel okay.

This is okay.

Right?

Lupin swallows the lump that keeps clawing its way up his throat, letting out a shuddering sigh. Zenigata definitely catches that, freezing for half a second before the lack of voiced out complaint from Lupin encourages him to keep going. 

The bandages that cover Lupin’s body makes it hard for Zenigata to ravish him properly. Lupin knows from the rare times he and Zenigata have had fun together, that usually, Zenigata would kiss him a lot. Kiss his way down his chest, belly, between his legs and over his crotch. He’d make sure to make Lupin squirm and beg as he drags every little thing out. 

Just like they dragged things out, when--

Lupin’s lips quivers, his free hand coming to grip at his own hair. Stop thinking about this, damn it, he thinks to himself with a hiss. This is supposed to be enjoyable.

“Lupin--” Zenigata tries to voice out, but Lupin cuts him off.

“Keep going!” Lupin urges him, and there’s a certain alarm in his voice that causes Zenigata’s eyes to flash with worry as he looks over at Lupin.

“If you’re not doing good, we can st--”

“I said keep going!!” Lupin snaps, and although he refuses to look at Zenigata, he can only imagine the frown the other has on his face.

Out of pure mercy, Zenigata seems to get it, his hands gently running down Lupin’s sides before freeing him of his underwear. Lupin tries to breathe deeply as Zenigata hesitates, and as Zenigata warns that he’ll press his fingers inside now. Zenigata’s voice sounds so far away, somehow, but Lupin tries to focus on it as best as he can.

It’s fine. It’ll be fine. It’s just Zenigata. 

Zenigata’s wet finger - Lupin is so out of it that he didn’t even notice him retrieving any sort of lube - comes to rub at Lupin’s abused hole gently, as if testing the waters. The simple gesture is enough to cause Lupin’s entire body to tense up immediately, his breath catching in his throat as discomfort makes him shake. It hurts, but the pain is the least of his problems. 

“Keep going,” Lupin still begs before Zenigata can say anything, his voice way too shaky. 

He can just feel the way Zenigata’s hand tremble, and yet Zenigata obliges. He tries to push a finger in, and Lupin does his very best to keep himself from hyperventilating as awful memories flood his mind. 

Images of dicks being forced inside of him and thrusting so, so harshly, with no warning, with no regards to Lupin’s well being, flash behind his eyelids. Zenigata is doing so much better than them. Shouldn’t this feel good? He’s being kind. He’s being slow. He’s being gentle - so much so that it’s as if he fears Lupin will break with any wrong move. Shouldn’t it feel good? Shouldn’t it make Lupin happy?

Shouldn’t sex make him happy?

Why does he want to cry?

Why do his lips quiver so much?

Why can’t he breathe?

Lupin bites at his lips harshly - so harshly that he might draw blood if he keeps going. His hand yanks on his hair, and suddenly everything crumbles around him. He can’t feel the tip of the finger that Zenigata tried to push inside of him. He can’t hear the worries Zenigata voices out. He can’t feel him against him. 

All he feels are the grossly affectionate and slow touches of his abusers as they overwhelmed him after drugging him. All he can hear is their mocking remarks whispered against his ear. He’s so certain that if he were to open his eyes, right now, he would see all the cameras pointed at him. He would be able to see the comments flooding the screen. 

Horrible, horrible comments, coming from the literal millions of viewers who saw him be tortured on screen. The millions of viewers who wanted to see him get tortured on screen. Who paid for it.

He can’t breathe. “Keep going, keep going, please keep going,” he can feel himself beg in a broken, wheezing voice, as if this would somehow help. As if he could somehow be okay. 

Zenigata pulls his finger out. Lupin almost expects a way too large cock to take its place. He almost expects to be shoved down the mattress and fucked senselessly. He almosts expects Zenigata to mock him, force him to open his eyes and watch himself be abused through a livestream. 

Zenigata, however, does none of those things. Of course he doesn’t.

Lupin doesn’t realize he’d been crying, until he feels warm, soft, gentle hands cup his cheeks and wipe his tears away. He doesn’t realize the sobs that had been escaping him until lips press gently against his temple, gentle words murmured in hopes to shush him. He doesn’t realize how hard he’d been yanking at his hair, until Zenigata grabs his hand and gently holds it in his own instead, softly scolding Lupin for being so hard on himself. 

“P-pops, I told you-- k-keep going, I’m fine, it’s f-fine…” Lupin still tries to reassure him in between sobs, as if he could even convince Zenigata anymore.

“No, it’s not fine,” Zenigata replies with a frown, before shifting so that both of them are laying side by side. Then, he pulls Lupin into a warm and gentle embrace, his large arms wrapped around Lupin serving as a protection. 

… A protection against what, Lupin asks himself? He’s fine. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Why is he even so upset?

Lupin keeps asking himself that even as he crumbles against Zenigata, even as his shaky, weak hands come to cling to him, and even as he presses his face against Zenigata’s chest. He asks himself why he’s crying like this, why he’s so upset over this, even as his body shakes and shakes as flashes of memories keep coming to haunt him and make him want to barf.

He keeps asking himself, “why do you have to be such a baby?” even as Zenigata tells him that it’s okay, and even as he sobs so hard that an explosion of pain sparks from his broken rib. 

This should’ve been fine. 

He’s been through so many horrible things and he’s always gotten back up. Why is this any different? Why does this have to be any different?

Lupin doesn’t know. He doesn’t know, and he hates it. He hates how he’s completely lost control of himself, of his emotions, of his reactions to said emotions. He hates how unable he is to track his thoughts and keep them in one place. He hates how weak he feels, and how pathetic he’s being as he cries against Zenigata.

Yet, in the midst of all his negative, ashamed feelings, he’s also grateful. Shamefully grateful for how kind Zenigata is being, for how understanding he’s being, for how gentle he’s being. He’s grateful for the arms around him, for the hand rubbing gentle circles down his back, for the gentle reassurances whispered in between two kisses against the top of his head. He’s grateful for the lack of judgement. He’s grateful for the care.

He’s grateful for the safety. 

“I-I’m sorry for this, pops… I didn’t want you to see me like this, I didn’t want anyone--” he tries to say when he’s calmed down enough to speak, but Zenigata shakes his head. 

“I’ve told you, Lupin - I want you to cry this out,” Zenigata reminds him, nuzzling his hair. “So cry it out, and I’ll make sure to forget everything I saw today.”

Lupin lets out another pathetic sob and a whine, before nodding. It takes a while longer for him to find it in himself to look up at Zenigata, and for him to find his voice to speak again. When he does, he makes sure to flash him what must be the most pathetic smile he’s ever given anyone, before speaking out a simple “Thank you, pops,” that somehow helps his heart feel much lighter than it has since this whole thing happened. 

“It’s no problem at all,” Zenigata replies, leaning in to press his own smiling lips against Lupin’s. “Anything to see you genuinely smile again.”

And at that, Lupin laughs. It’s a teary, painful laugh that ends in a cough as tears still stream down his face, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. It’s true that the smile he offered Zenigata was pathetic, and ugly, and shaky - but it’s also true that it was genuine. 

After crying for a while, Lupin finds himself genuinely glad somehow. It’s a confusing sort of emotion, especially as a nagging voice at the back of his mind tries to talk him down for breaking down again. But he tries not to think too hard. He tries to follow Zenigata’s advice and simply cry, guessing that he would have the time to think clearly and sort through his more complicated emotions later. 

Then, and only then, he might decide to smile and forget all these horrible memories. 

For now, he’ll keep clinging to Zenigata. He’ll keep trembling in his arms. He’ll keep crying against him, and will keep thanking him for his kindness and warmth. Because it’s the best he can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing fanfics for a new fandom is so scary i have so many fears of being ooc lol. 
> 
> that said, i also wanted to say thank you for the super kind feedback i got for the first chapter :) i didn't expect it, and it made me super happy! hopefully this can be as enjoyable!!

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me @bottomlupin on twitter if you wanna be friensd! ;) (or if you wanna block me I guess lol)


End file.
